Why a married couples' tax allowance could be deadly for the Tories

Clegg's argument that any spare money should be used to support "all working families" is a powerful dividing line with the Conservatives.

After three years in government, it is only now that David Cameron is talking seriously about introducing a married couples' tax allowance, promising to announce plans "very shortly". The proposal was included in the 2010 Conservative manifesto and the Coalition Agreement (which gave the Lib Dems the right to abstain), so what's taken him so long? The reason for the delay, I suspect, is that influential Tories, most notably George Osborne (one of the most socially liberal MPs), recognise that it is a profoundly flawed measure. 

As Nick Clegg observed at his press conference this morning, a policy that "basically says to people who are not married: you will pay more tax than people who are married" will seem odd to many voters. Clegg's argument that a spare £550m would be better spent "on all working families" is a powerful dividing line with the Tories. 

It's true that a YouGov poll in January found that 53 per cent of the public support the introduction of a  tax allowance, with just 36 per cent opposed, but this total is likely to fall when voters find out that less than a third of married couples would benefit. As outlined in the Tory manifesto, only those couples in which one member is not using all of their personal tax allowance would gain (they could transfer £750 of their unused allowance to their spouse), with higher-rate taxpayers excluded. The policy could, of course, be redesigned so that all or most married couples benefit but this, not least for the fiscally conservative Osborne, would be prohibitively expensive. Clegg's argument that any spare money would be better used on raising the personal allowance is likely to resonate.

In his recent GQ article, Andy Coulson described the perception that David Cameron does not like single parents as "electoral halitosis", but this policy unambiguously discriminates against them. Among those who also don't gain from the policy, as Don't Judge My Family notes, are widows and widowers, people who leave abusive relationships and working couples. The policy will also alienate the young, socially liberal voters that the Tories need to win over if they are to ever secure a majority (18-24-year-olds opposed the policy by 40-36 in the YouGov poll). 

In reaffirming his support for an allowance, Cameron may enhance his standing with his party and with traditional Conservative voters but only at the cost of further limiting the appeal of the Tory brand. 

The decoration of a wedding cake is seen at the wedding fair on January 8, 2012 in the western German city of Essen. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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